


it suits you

by zach_stone



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Pumpkin Picking, Sharing Clothes, idk what else to tag this as uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zach_stone/pseuds/zach_stone
Summary: “Newton, for goodness’ sake, can we just — no.” Hermann frowned at the selections Newt held up in front of him. A pair of overalls and a red-and-black flannel shirt, both Newt’s. “I am not wearingdungarees.”“Okay, first of all, cute that you call them dungarees,” Newt said, grinning. “Second of all, you would look very cute in these, they’re seasonal, and I am not kidding when I say you’ll ruin your slacks if you wear them to a farm.” He wiggled the overalls in Hermann’s direction, the buckles on the braces jingling as he did so. Hermann let out a long-suffering sigh, mostly for show. He really did need to invest in a pair of jeans.--Fic for the Newmann SFW Fest! Prompts were "sharing clothes/personal items" and "pumpkin/apple picking"





	it suits you

**Author's Note:**

> i had a lot of fun with this one and i'm so glad i was finally able to finish it! i hope y'all enjoy, and please be sure to check out the rest of the fest here: https://sfwnewmannfest.tumblr.com/ thanks so much lex and tommy for putting this together!

“ _That’s_ what you’re wearing?”

Hermann looked down at himself, not sure what Newt was so up in arms about. “This is what I wear nearly every day,” he said.

Newt rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, dingus. You can’t wear your nice work pants to a _pumpkin patch_ , they’re gonna get all covered in dirt and straw. Don’t you have a pair of jeans or something?” Before Hermann could respond, Newt held up his hand. “No, wait, never mind. I know you don’t. It’s okay, babe, I’ve got you covered.” He spun on his heel and pulled open their closet, rummaging around inside.

“Newton, for goodness’ sake, can we just — no.” Hermann frowned at the selections Newt held up in front of him. A pair of overalls and a red-and-black flannel shirt, both Newt’s. “I am not wearing _dungarees_.”

“Okay, first of all, cute that you call them dungarees,” Newt said, grinning. “Second of all, you would look very cute in these, they’re seasonal, and I am not kidding when I say you’ll ruin your slacks if you wear them to a farm.” He wiggled the overalls in Hermann’s direction, the buckles on the braces jingling as he did so. Hermann let out a long-suffering sigh, mostly for show. He really did need to invest in a pair of jeans.

“Oh, all right then. Give them here,” he said. Newt beamed at him. “Though I’m certain those will be too short for me.” The flannel, at least, was oversized on Newt, so it would likely fit Hermann’s longer arms.

“We’ll just cuff ‘em so it looks intentional,” Newt said. When Hermann sat down on the edge of the bed to undress, Newt dropped down next to him and took his sweater-vest and shirt, even folding them before he set them aside. It was surprisingly thoughtful of him, though Hermann suspected Newt was just trying to butter him up so Hermann would protest less when he saw how inevitably silly he looked in this new outfit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy borrowing (and occasionally stealing and claiming for his own) Newton’s clothes — he had a growing selection of threadbare band T-shirts that were his favorites for sleeping in — he just wasn’t sure he could pull off the overalls _look_ the way Newt could. Nevertheless, he allowed Newt to help him pull them on, and then Newt crouched by his feet to carefully cuff each leg just above the ankle, taking a moment to fondly squeeze Hermann’s foot as he did so.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the closet mirror. Hermann drummed his fingers over the head of his cane for a moment before he said, “I look… like a farmer.”

Newt burst out laughing, throwing an arm around Hermann’s shoulder and pulling him into a sideways embrace. Hermann relented somewhat, smiling. “You don’t look like a farmer,” Newt said. “I was right, though, you do look very cute. It suits you.” He leaned up to kiss Hermann’s cheek.

Hermann had to admit, he did like wearing Newt’s clothes. The flannel was one of Newt’s favorites, well-worn and soft. There was something about it that felt comforting in the same way that the wedding band on his left hand was a comfort. A little piece of Newt he could keep with him wherever he went.

He still looked like a farmer, though, whatever Newton said.

By the time they were ready to go, Hermann had donned a jacket and a scarf Newt had knitted for him. Newt was wearing his usual skinny jeans and a sweater that Hermann was fairly certain he’d purchased from Hot Topic nearly a decade ago. It was black with little skeletons on it, and it was clearly made for fashion rather than warmth.

“You’re going to be cold without a jacket, love,” Hermann pointed out as they left the house. Newt waved him off, even shoving up the sleeves of his sweater as if to prove a point. Hermann rolled his eyes.

 

The pumpkin patch was somewhat crowded when they arrived, mostly families with small children. Newt paid their entry fee, which included the price of a pumpkin. He turned to Hermann once they had passed through the main gate.

“Whatcha wanna do first? There’s a gift shop, I think we can go feed cows and goats and stuff over that way… oh! There’s a corn maze!”

“We are not going in the corn maze,” Hermann said firmly. Newt looked ready to argue this point, so Hermann tried quickly to divert his attention. “Why don’t we pick out a pumpkin first, hm? Wouldn’t want all the best ones to be gone, would we?”

“Oh, good point,” Newt said. He linked his arm with Hermann’s and they headed in the direction of the hand-painted sign that proclaimed _Pumpkins Here!_

The pumpkins were clustered in a large field, dotted with people hoisting them up and lugging them off in the direction of the gift shop. The field was decorated with wholly unnecessary scarecrows. Hermann was eyeing the pumpkins, already envisioning which ones would be best suited for Newt’s elaborate carving plans, when Newt started laughing and elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ouch! What is it?” Hermann grumbled. Newt pointed to a scarecrow a few feet away. It was dressed in a large straw hat, a red flannel shirt, and overalls. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

“Well, one of you is gonna have to change,” Newt snickered. He darted forward and stood on his toes to yank the hat off the scarecrow, plunking it onto Hermann’s head before he could protest. “Man, you still look cute. How do you do that?”

Blushing slightly, Hermann pushed the brim of the hat out of his eyes. “I had no idea you found the rustic look so appealing.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen! Please do not deface farm property!” shouted a harried looking young man from across the field of pumpkins. Hermann turned beet red and snatched the hat off his head, shoving it back into Newt’s hands. Newt put the hat back on the scarecrow with a sheepish “sorry!” to the man. He then turned back to Hermann and they shared a long look before both collapsing into giggles.

After nearly tripping on three pumpkins, Hermann ended up sitting on a hay bale and Newt wandered over to a booth to buy him a cup of cider. He brought over the styrofoam cup of hot cider and passed it to Hermann, dropping down to sit close to him. “Sorry that took so long,” Newt said. “I was telling the guy at the booth they should use cups made of biodegradable material instead, and I maybe got a little carried away.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” Hermann chided teasingly, taking a sip of the cider. It was warm and sweet.

“You literally got us kicked out of Whole Foods because you wouldn’t stop lecturing the cashiers about not using plastic bags, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

Hermann decided not to respond. He took a few more sips of the cider, and Newt leaned against him, resting his head on Hermann’s shoulder.

“How is it?” Newt asked. “They said they make it fresh here.”

“It’s quite good,” Hermann said. “Would you like a taste?”

Newt nodded, sitting up straight, but when Hermann offered him the cup he ignored it in favor of pressing a kiss to Hermann’s mouth. “Mm, very sweet,” he agreed with a smile. Hermann smiled rather sappily back at him.

Hermann’s leg was still bothering him when he finished the cider, so he stayed sitting on the hay bale while Newt hefted pumpkins up for Hermann to give a thumbs up or thumbs down. Hermann suspected Newt really just wanted to show off that he could lift pumpkins over his head. He was currently wrestling with one so wide that he couldn’t even wrap his arms all the way around it.

“‘Scuse me,” a small voice said to his right, and Hermann turned to see a girl of about seven standing beside him. “Do you work here?”

Hermann sighed, plucking at his overalls. “No,” he said. “I’m afraid my partner merely insisted I dress the part.” The child looked at him quizzically, and he winced. He had no idea how to speak to children. “Er, was there something you needed?”

The girl shrugged. “I can’t decide what kinda pumpkin I want! Are you getting one?”

Hermann nodded. “Yes. My leg was bothering me, so my husband is picking ours out. That’s him there.” He pointed in Newt’s direction, where the other man had given up on the giant pumpkin and was now hoisting two pumpkins into his arms at once, clearly just for show. He saw Hermann pointing and made an aborted attempt at a wave, which nearly resulted in him dropping one of the pumpkins.

The girl giggled. “He’s funny,” she said.

Hermann smiled fondly. “Yes,” he agreed. “But don’t tell him I said that.” He glanced around the field before pointing to a round, squat pumpkin nearby. “That one looks nice, don’t you think?”

“Do you think I could carve a ghost on it?” the girl asked him. She was regarding the pumpkin with exaggerated seriousness.

“Certainly,” Hermann said, just as seriously. “In fact, I think it’s the _perfect_ pumpkin.”

She beamed. “Thanks! I’m gonna go tell my dad. Bye!” She darted off without another word, leaving Hermann bemusedly watching after her. A moment later, Newt came back to join him, still lugging a pumpkin under each arm.

“Making friends?” he asked.

“Apparently,” Hermann said. He eyed the pumpkins. “You do know you only paid for one pumpkin, right, dear?”

“I know, I just can’t decide between these two. Whaddya think?” He stepped back a little to give Hermann a full view of the pumpkins, clearly straining a little under their weight.

Hermann lifted his cane and tapped the one on the left. Nodding in relief, Newt eased that one down onto the hay bale beside Hermann, and none-too-gently set the other one on the ground.

As they walked hand-in-hand in the direction of the gift shop, Newt carrying their pumpkin under one arm, Hermann noticed something and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Newton.”

“Hm?”

“Are you shivering?”

Newt’s sleeves were still rolled up, and Hermann could see goosebumps on his arms. “Uh… maybe a little?” When Hermann gave him a look, Newt tried to gesture wildly without letting go of Hermann’s hand, nearly whacking Hermann in the face in the process. “It wasn’t that cold when we left! It’s chilly out here, I think it’s because this place is full of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s why,” Hermann deadpanned. He let go of Newt’s hand and unwound the scarf from his own neck to drape it around Newt instead. “I did warn you this would happen.”

The scarf was long — Newt had gotten a bit carried away when he was knitting it — and with it draped so loosely around his neck, one of the ends hung practically to his waist. “Dude, I look like Doctor Who,” Newt said.

Hermann made a pained expression. “I’ve told you, the _character’s name_ is not ‘Doctor Who,’ it’s —”

“I know,” Newt interrupted. “Your reaction just gets me every time.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Hermann muttered, reaching over to fix the scarf so it was more secure around Newt’s neck. He patted Newt’s chest fondly when he was done. “This happens often enough that I’m starting to suspect you forgo outerwear purely so you can steal mine.”

“You caught me,” Newt chuckled. He tugged an end of the scarf and said teasingly, “This sure is a nice scarf, where’d you get it?”

“A rather charming man made it for me,” Hermann replied. “So be careful, it’s very dear to me.”

Newt’s smile softened. “This isn’t even the nicest one I’ve made you, dude.”

“No,” Hermann conceded. “But it was the first, so it’s my favorite.”

“Sap.” Newt grabbed Hermann’s hand again, squeezing it once as they continued on their way.

They ended up stopping in the gift shop so Newt could purchase a veritable army of little gourds for his office at the university — but only after they both spent about ten minutes pointing to increasingly lumpy, misshapen gourds and saying, “That’s you.” They couldn’t hold hands anymore by the time they left, as Newt’s arms were full.

“This was fun,” Newt declared as they stuck their purchases in the back seat of the car. “Man, maybe we should get a farm.”

“You can barely maintain our window boxes,” Hermann said.

“I know. I just want more excuses to see you wearing my overalls.”

Hermann leaned over to kiss Newt’s cheek. “I think that, at least, can be arranged, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me at the usual places, twitter @hermanngottiieb and tumblr @joshuawashinton :)


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